That's Private
by Kittypig
Summary: Where did Private come from? I know there are so many stories about this topic, but I tried to make this one as different as I could. Please read and review, plus, I'm not updating 'til I get at least 3 reviews!
1. Chapter 1: Lost

**Ever wonder where Private came from? I know people have written things about that very same thing, but trust me when I say that this one is different! Well, I guess you just have to read to find out how!**

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Chapter 1: Lost

In a cold snowy place called Antarctica, a penguin father holds his newborn egg on his feet. He stares at it with joy in his ocean blue eyes and smiles. He then looks at the rest of the rookery. They all shivered in the unforgiving blizzard, protecting their children from frostbite. The father didn't shiver as badly though because he was thinking of the warmth of love he shared with his child and wife. He glanced at the sky but had to look away because of the heavy snowfall clouding up his vision. He felt relaxed and content. He could stay here forever knowing that he was with his egg.

He looked back down to his egg but, hold on, where was it? The penguin scrambled around the ice and snow frantically searching for his child, but had no such luck. Ice cold tears ran down his feathery cheeks and beak as he mourned the loss of the egg. There was no way the egg could have survived the frigid temperatures. There was a small ray of hope that the egg _had _survived in the back of his mind, but it was dim in the shadows. All he could think about now was his foolishness and stupidity. How could he lose his precious child?

A distance away from the warm rookery the now orphaned egg lay in the snow cold and sad. It was so white it was almost invisible against its snowy background. If it were alive and hatched it'd be shivering and crying in the cold. There was almost no hope for the egg now. _Almost._

A human in a special suit that could withstand cold temperatures almost walked past and noticed the egg. He started to panic. An egg can't be left in the cold! He snatched up the egg and ran as fast as he could to the lab where he had worked and lived in for so many days. There was hope for the little penguin egg yet!

The human carried the cold egg into the lab and dried it off with a warm cloth towel. He tried to keep it warm under many blankets that he had on his bed. One heat blanket was placed under the egg for ensured warmth.

"Now, you wait right there little one, I have a call to make." The scientist said to the egg.

Other scientists living there too oohed and aahed over the fortunate egg. Then the scientist walked over to some special equipment and called into a radio.

"Code 56! Code 56! Abandoned egg! I repeat abandoned egg!"

It wasn't long before the egg was secured by a military ship and out of its homeland. Carried miles away from the snowy desert, to better horizons. And for days the egg was held in an incubated container with heavy padding (towels) all around it. Soon, it finally made it off of the ship from Antarctica and was in a whole new country. It was loaded onto a zoo truck and ended at its final destination: the London zoo in Europe.

After the long and hard trip, the egg was finally secured by trilled zookeepers. The women were constantly checking on it and the men were too, just not as frequently. Now there was one test to be done: was the egg alive?

About an hour later it was confirmed that the egg was in fact alive and well. There was a large celebration in the staff room as zookeepers, janitors, veterinarians, and even tour guides gathered 'round to share cups of tea and crumpets. It was certainly a time to celebrate indeed. They hadn't had a young orphaned egg like this in years.

Back in Antarctica, the mother penguins were returning from the hunt for fish. A sleek, beautiful, amber eyed mother approached the father of the orphaned egg.

"Hi, honey. Where's the baby?" She asked happily.

The father looked into her eyes with great sorrow and guilt. He looked away.

"What's wrong, Jerald?" She asked.

"I…well…I lost the egg." Jerald replied nervously. An arrow struck his heart and burned like fire. The mother glared at him harshly.

"You…_Lost it?!_" She cried.

"Er…well…yes, but…!" She smacked him across the face, glowing with anger.

"Tell me how you lost and egg when you were holding it on your own two feet!" she demanded crossly.

"All I did was look up! I didn't mean to lose it! I swear!" He yelled.

"I loved that egg! It's probably dead!" tears welled up in her eyes.

"I loved it as much as you did!" He wanted to cry too, but he reminded himself that he was too manly to do so. "H-honey?"

It was quiet for a moment and the mother finally looked up and attacked Jerald.

"It's entirely _your_ fault that _my _egg is gone forever!" she screamed and nearly killed her husband before they plunged into a seal's air hole in the ice.

Jerald loosened from his wife's grip and swam to the surface with her on his trail. He belly slid down the hill and out of view of the rookery. The mother grunted angrily and turned back for home. She was angry and discombobulated. At any rate, she promised herself she _would _find her son if it was the last thing she did. She waddled to the edge of the shore and watched the waves out yonder.

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**Like this? Gee, that mom seemed very upset... If I get three reviews I'll post a new chapter. It's not torture, just not that fair! Lol We'll see how this turns out! :)**


	2. Chapter 2: Uncle Nigel

**Hey guys! Thanks for reviewing! I hope you enjoy this chapter as much as the last! I don't own the Penguins, but they still rock anyway and so do you!**

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Chapter 2: Uncle Nigel

Now, there was a penguin in the zoo that was a noble man. His name was Nigel. At least, that's what the zookeepers called him. He'd always went by that name too, how the humans had known his real name was a mystery. He was a tall, handsome fellow with feathers atop his head fashioned like a shaggy hairdo. His beak was a darker orange than most and acted a bit like a flibbertigibbet. He was a very intelligent and very jolly. He walked over to the glass to watch guests walk by.

That's when he'd spotted the zookeepers and a veterinarian walk by. They were carrying something in their hands. It was in a container, covered by a cloth and was held very securely. Nigel cocked his head to the side. _A newcomer, perhaps?_He wondered.

A zookeeper in a jacket herded Nigel to a small room where the walls were sleek and white. _Am I being replaced?_ Nigel looked for a way out and tackled the entrance. No good, plus, it made his shoulder hurt. The poor old boy rubbed his wing and closed his eyes. _That smarts! I'll definitely feel it in the morning._He thought.

He sat down, knowing that it was no use. He had years of experience and knew that humans were worthy adversaries. Well, this was an example of that.

A wall was removed at his flank and he instantly stood to see what was going on. Across from him sat an egg, its white shell shining in the artificial light. Nigel scooped it up and cradled it with the gentlest of flippers, but at the same time cuddled it as tight as he could. He knew why they had brought him here now. He was to care for this child. And that he shall do. He was soon released, but didn't notice at first because he was too busy stroking the egg. He waddled out and the door closed behind him.

"Humph, I wonda who your mum could be. She must be awfully worried. Now, now, you shan't be hurt here and I shall take good care of you. I'll hurt anyone who gets in the way of that." Nigel realized he was talking to himself, but that was okay.

Nigel had had only one child, a son, but he had died in the service a few years ago. His wife was in another zoo and had been for two years now. He had been a lonely man ever since, hanging out with others in the rookery sometimes so no one could call a hermit. He looked at the egg, and then looked at the sky, well, the ceiling anyway.

"Thank you," he whispered.

Someone walked up from behind him and tapped on his shoulder. He winced in pain and then turned to see his best friend, Benjamin. He was as tall as Nigel, with gray feather sideburns and no gray feathers on the top of his head.

"Morning, Nigel, might I ask who you're talking to?" Benjamin inquired.

Nigel turned his body to reveal the egg he had clutched in his flippers. Benjamin got a sly grin on his face.

"So where's the lassie?" Benjamin asked.

"What? No! I'm afraid my wife's not here. I'm sorry to say it's not my child."

"So you're babysitting then?"

"I guess you could say that...The keepers brought it to me." Nigel explained.

"Ah, that hasn't happened in quite a few yeahs, if memory serves." Benjamin said thoughtfully.

"Yes, your memory serves you very well, my friend." Nigel said, tucking the egg under his belly and on top of his feet.

"You know, Nigel, you can't fulfill your duties in the agency with the child there." Ben pointed out.

"I know, Benjamin, and I ask that you tell the commissioner I will be off duty for a while." Nigel said.

"Of course, Nigel. I'm sure the commissioner shall understand." Benjamin said.

A call came from an igloo caused Ben to turn around.

"Oh, you'll have to excuse me, I must go. My wife needs some help in the igloo with the furniture." Benjamin called over his shoulder as he ran to an igloo across the habitat.

Nigel smiled to himself. He remembered having to move furniture with his wife. She was a neat lady, wanting the igloo to be nice and clean all of the time. He remembered finding himself cleaning dishes just for her and sweeping the icy floors.

Nigel walked into an igloo at the corner of the habitat and sat on a chair made completely of ice. He held the egg on his belly and stroked it. He took a picture from the coffee table. There was him standing next to a lovely lady who was his wife and a boy stood in front of him saluting the camera. His son had always been interested in the army, playing War with the other chicks in the habitat.

Nigel smiled again and heard a crackling. He glanced around warily. Nothing but his igloo appliances and furniture. He settled back down in his chair again and thought aloud.

"What the devil was that? Was that you?" he teased the egg in his lap until he heard the crackling again.

Nigel was bugging in his seat until he noticed there was something on the egg. He went to rub it away, but then realized that it was a crack. Nigel felt a rush of anxiety and set the egg on the coffee table.

Across the middle the egg cracked, and the top and bottom separated, revealing a bunch of blue fluffy down on a chubby belly. Then a head peeked out from under the top of the eggshell, and two ocean blue eyes shining with innocence stared up at the old bird before them. The tiny downy bird chirped, "Daddy!"

Nigel chuckled. "I'm sorry, deah child, but I'm not you're fathah. But you may call me Uncle Nigel."

"Uncle Nigel! Uncle Nigel!" the baby repeated his uncle.

Nigel lifted the baby out of the eggshell and sat the chick on his belly. The child stared at him and copied his smile.

"Well, aren't you the smart one? What shall I call you?" Nigel thought and looked at the picture of his son saluting. It made him think of the army. "How about...Private? How's that sound?"

Private repeated his name several times. "Private! Private!"

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**Did you like this chapter? Please review! Again, I won't update until I get at least 3 reviews! ;) -Kittypig**


	3. Chapter 3: Choices

**Hi everyone! A new chapter is up! (Sound of celebration.) The song in the third paragraph is England Swings by Roger Miller, one of the funniest singers ever! And if you wonder later, "Bobbies" are policemen in Europe. Anyway, enjoy!**

Chapter 3: Fired?

The chick lay nestled in Nigel's flippers and cooed. Nigel stared at him thoughtfully and held him close as if afraid he'd float away. The little penguin seemed downright comfortable in his uncle's arms. Nigel sat there unable to move until Baby Private began crying. Nigel scrambled out of his seat in surprise and fumbled the baby in the air. Once he thought he had a good grip on the child, he bounced him up and down as he'd seen his wife do with their son so long ago.

"Hush! Shhhhh... D-don't cry!" he tried to soothe the baby, only to end up in failure. Finally after a thought-filled moment he began to sing.

_England swings like the pendulum do,_  
_Bobbies on bicycles two by two,_  
_Westminster Abby, the tower of Big Ben,_  
_The rosy red cheeks of the little children..._

The baby quieted down and listened to the song. Little Private's eyes fluttered closed and he drifted into sleep. Nigel looked at him endearingly and then searched the room. He had to make a nest for the lad, and quick. He folded an old quilt his wife had sewn and set Private in it temporarily. He then grabbed a few other types of blankets and put together a make-shift nest with an indentation in the center so that the baby wouldn't fall out.

When Private was finally laid down to sleep, his blue eyes suddenly flipped open and he began to cry once again. Nigel sighed. Parenthood had its quirks, but this was definitely not one of them.

Uncle Nigel picked up the crying baby and bounced him a couple times. He looked around the room with a panicked look in his eye. Soon a thought came to mind. The next door neighbor, Mrs. Hyacinth, had a child about two months older than Private who was on Sippy-cups now. Nonetheless, the distraught uncle walked over to Mrs. Hyacinth's residence with the screaming baby, which earned him a few odd looks. Mind you, carrying a whining baby in public is very embarrassing, it's happened to Nigel many times now. Mostly it had happened with his own son, except for this once with Private.

Nigel smiled nervously at the crowd.

"Nothing here, mates. Move along with your day." Nigel said.

He waddled faster to Hyacinth's den and entered with a knock.

"'Ello? Oh, Nigel! What'd you do to that poor child?" she said taking the baby from the other penguin's arms.

She rocked Private back and forth and whispered kind things into his ear hole. She pulled an empty baby bottle from the cabinet and opened it. Hyacinth then took a few salmon from the fridge and put them in the blender on puree. Once the fish was pureed she filled the bottle and fed Private. She looked at Nigel with an unreadable expression in her icy blue eyes.

"Honestly, how you ended up with a chick is beyond me!" Hyacinth said; every now and again she could be hot-headed.

"The keepahs gave him to me." Nigel replied with a proud smile.

"That explains it," Hyacinth said with a mischievous look gleaming in her eyes, showing that she was kidding. "Those keepahs can't tell a good fathah from a bad one, now can they?"

Nigel felt slightly offended by her statement, but being the level-headed gentlemen he was he only nodded in acknowledgement of her words. After she had finished with feeding Private, Nigel took him back. He was shown how to burp the baby, and then Private had fallen asleep again. Hyacinth seemed reluctant to let them go.

"Make sure you change his nappy every few hours, and feed him too…and remembah to-,"

"I believe I've got it, Hyacinth, thank you."

Nigel left with the baby in one flipper and a pack of diapers and bottles in the other. He looked at the child, lost in thought. This would have been so much easier if Sydney were here... Nigel entered his home to be greeted by a tall, muscular and scarred penguin. He had his flippers behind his back and a boss like posture to him, but didn't act above Nigel at all and smiled.

"'Ello there, Nigel." the taller penguin said.

"'Ello, Commissioner Sir," Nigel saluted after setting the pack of diapers down. "I suppose you're here about the baby."

"Yes, Nigel, I Am." the Commissioner frowned. "I'm not really sure I like it."

"Whatever do you mean, sir?" Nigel walked over and put the baby in his makeshift bed and stood toe to toe with the commissioner.

"I mean that you're one of the best agents we've got. I need you back on duty soon." the Commissioner explained in a grave voice.

"But sir, I can't just run off on the boy like that! He needs someone there. He's been abandoned once already! It's not going to happen again!" Nigel raised his voice, but then remembered that Private was asleep and he hushed. "I just don't think its right."

"Nigel, calm yourself. I didn't say you had to leave him now. But be prepared, I will need you sometime." and with that, the commissioner left with a cold look in his eye.

Nigel sat down at the ice table. He rested his head in his flippers. He gazed across the room where Private lay, looking like the most peaceful angel. He shook his head and leaned back in his chair to look up at the ceiling. Nigel sighed.

He went to the entrance of the igloo and leaned against the doorway. He took a deep breath. _Calm yourself, Nigel. Everything will work out eventually. _Suddenly, there was a loud noise coming from the other side of the rookery's village. Nigel turned his head to see a crowd of black and white feathers. Nigel glanced at Private to make sure he was sound asleep before walking out to the commotion spot. He pushed through other penguins and found a pretty female penguin with amber eyes. Nigel gazed in shock at this newcomer and his beak was agape. _O-oh no! It's __**her**__! _Nigel thought. The female penguin looked at him with mutual feelings.

"N-Nigel?!" she cried out.

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**Uh-oh! How do this penguin and Nigel know each other? Will Nigel have to give up his job? What will happen to Private? I guess you'll have to read the next chapter to find out! BTW, thanks for the reviews, I appreciate the support! And once again, I'll update only if I get 3 reviews! **


	4. Chapter 4: Pardon?

**Go New Chapter!**

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Chapter 4: Pardon?

"N-Nigel?!" the amber eyed lady said. "Is that you?"

Nigel panicked. He knew this woman all too well, and he ran out of there with a fleeting heart. He huffed and puffed and pushed others out of the way like he was being chased by a predator. Nigel turned his head to see if he was being followed and saw the lady reaching through the crowd. Nigel ran faster into his igloo.

Nigel bent over, trying to catch his breath. Finally he decided to check outside to see if the amber-eyed woman was still following. He slipped along the wall until finally able to look around the village. There was no sign of her anywhere. Maybe I lost her... Nigel thought, wiping some sweat away from his forehead feathers.

But to his dismay, he spotted her though moving along from igloo to igloo, from resident to resident, asking about him. Nigel's eyes went wide as she approached Mrs. Hyacinth. He held his breath while he read their beaks. He saw Hyacinth point towards his igloo and the amber-eyed lady smiled and nodded gratefully. Nigel gulped as he searched for a place to hide.

The lady walked across the threshold looked around, finding Nigel at the table pretending to be reading a newspaper. She waddled over to him and pulled down the top of the paper with a flipper on her hip. Nigel held her gaze for a moment. She raised a brow at him. He smiled without any sincerity.

"W-why 'ello, Angela." Nigel said with a crack in his voice.

"Nigel! It is you!" Angela said and waddled over to the other side of the table. "May I sit?"

"P-please do." Nigel said.

Angela took the seat across from Nigel. Nigel had no idea what to say. She grinned and began to burst into laughter. Nigel was confused but acted like he was happy to see this lady in his home.

"May I ask what is so funny?" Nigel asked.

"Oh, dear brother, you are so...old!" Angela said with a smaller chuckle.

"Getting elderly is bettah than the alternative." Nigel retorted. "Care for some tea?"

"Sure," Angela shifted in her seat and rested her flippers on the table. "Two lumps of sugar, please."

Nigel worked at the stove, certainly taking his sweet time. He hummed a tune while doing so, and Angela hummed along too. Feeling a bit unnerved, Nigel ceased his tune and just continued with his tea making. The end of the process came faster than Nigel had hoped, and he had to sit down with his younger sister. He stole a glance at her once or twice, rearranging spoons and plates on the table in utter silence to distract his mind.

"So how've you been?" Angela asked feeling awkward from the silence.

"Oh, fine…just fine." Nigel answered with a glance around the room. He patted his flipper-tips against the hard ice surface of the table. "How about yourself?"

"Great. I got married." A pang of an unidentified feeling passed through Angela's eyes, Nigel noticed.

"How wonderful; congratulations. Do you have any children?" Nigel asked. He quickly regretted it though.

There was a lightning bolt of anger and sorrow rolled into one shockwave in Angela's eyes and it was written all over her face, too. Thunder rolled in her voice when she snarled.

"I don't have any." If she had teeth, they would be bared.

Nigel stiffened with wide eyes so that he couldn't miss a tiny movement that she made. After a moment the lady finally settled down back in her seat she flattened the feathers on her neck, but there was still that madness in her eyes that hung there like a storm cloud. Nigel took in a gulp and pretended they were having a delightful conversation.

"O-oh... Well, the keepers decided that they should let me have another turn at parenting. In fact the boy has hatched this morning." Nigel said, too proud not to tell.

Angela's eyes brightened instantly and she stood up. She ran up and hugged Nigel tightly.

"Can I pleeeeaase baby-sit? Pleeeeeeeaase?" Angela asked, squeezing Nigel half to death.

"Um, er, well...I'm not going anywhere right now so...not really. But, you may come see him." Gasping in every small breath he could get while she squished him in her arms.

"Yay!" Alice exclaimed in a squeal.

When they reached the crib, Angela looked at the baby with a huge smile.

"Awww...he looks so much like...wait a minute!" Angela's face turned serious again and she took a closer look at the baby. "T-this is my baby."

Nigel felt as though he was hit by a blunt object.

"I…I beg your pahdon?" Nigel choked out the words.

"This is my baby! He looks so much like his father!" Angela raised her voice.

Nigel stared in disbelief.

"A-are you sure you're not making a mistake?" Nigel said, pleading that she would agree.

"It's a mother's instinct to know which baby is which and I know that this is my baby!" Angela argued.

Nigel opened his mouth to speak but was interrupted by the baby's cry. He glared at Angela lightly.

"Look, you woke up Private!" Nigel said, picking up the baby out of his blankets.

"Private? It that _really _what you called him?" Angela raised a non-existent eyebrow.

Nigel hesitated. "Yes."

"Well, I would have named him Roy or Billy." Angela said with a disapproving frown.

Nigel stared at her. Although those sounded like more _normal _names, Private seemed to work just fine to him and the baby seemed like it too. Nigel was a little irritated at this point and walked away to the living room couch.

"Nigel! Nigel! Get back over here!" Angela yelled.

Nigel ignored her and rocked the baby back and forth. Private yawned with a wide beak and turned on his side and closed his eyes. Angela watched over Nigel's shoulder.

"Smith." Angela said, achieving an annoyed look from Nigel. "What?"

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**LOL Nigel's little sister seems to be a bit grumpy...and slightly annoying to her bigger brother. Like this strange twist? Toldja this story would be a little different. Learn why Nigel was so afraid of Angela in the next chapter, if you review. C'mon I need 3 reviews! We'll see what happens! ) -Kittypig**


	5. Chapter 5: Nigel's Babysitter

**New Chapter! Enjoy!**

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Chapter 5: Nigel's Babysitter

That night, Nigel had agreed to let Angela stay in his igloo. She had wanted to sleep right beside the baby, until Nigel reminded her of her snoring and tossing and turning in the night. Angela settled for the ice couch with one of the blankets that wasn't in Private's nest. Nigel didn't let her be closest to Baby Private, though. He sat down in an ice recliner (how it works is a mystery) and relaxed, waiting for Angela to fall asleep before he did.

"G'night, Nigel." Angela yawned and rolled over.

"G'night, Angela." Nigel added in a quiet voice, "Good night, Private."

Nigel drifted into slumber and made his departure from the real world.

The next morning Nigel noticed he had been slobbering all over his pillow. He sat up and instantly wiped his beak. Nigel looked around the igloo and scanned every nook and cranny with his ocean blue eyes. His gaze rested on Angela who was, as he predicted, snoring like a chainsaw was lodged in her throat. Nigel rolled his eyes and walked over to the blankets where Private lay, reaching for Nigel's face but catching nothing but air.

"You're a friendly one, aren't you?" Nigel carried Private into the kitchen.

He copied what Hyacinth had done yesterday by putting the fish in the blender and pureeing it until it was okay for the baby to eat. Private made quick work of his meal and Nigel wiped the boy's mouth with a handkerchief. Nigel changed the baby's diaper and came back to the living room to set him up on the coffee table. Private was not strong enough to sit up by himself, so a few books held the baby in place. It kind of looked like a throne.

Nigel sat and watched the baby play with the air for a moment, and then covered his eyes with his flippers. Baby Private looked confused and looked like he would start to panic. Nigel uncovered his eyes, smiled widely and said, "Peekaboo!"

Surprised and happy his uncle was there again, Private clapped and giggled in delight. Nigel let out a laugh in amusement himself, and then did it again. The two laughed and giggled together delightfully, just having a good old time. Angela stirred across the room and sat up, the feathers on her head as shaggy as Nigel's. She looked around with a short murmur to herself before falling back into place. Nigel and Private looked at each other briefly.

"Mumma tired?" Private asked, pointing at the lump under the blankets on the couch.

Nigel shook his head. "She nevah was an early risah."

Private cocked his head to the side and made a cute confused face. Nigel chuckled lightly. _Baby Private is more entertaining than the telly_, Nigel thought.

Angela stirred again until she finally woke for good and muttered grumpily to Nigel.

"You two make so much racket. How's a penguin supposed to get any sleep?"

Nigel shrugged. "Earplugs?" he suggested. "Besides, you should heah yourself snore."

Angela looked annoyed and continued. "What time is it?"

"About say o-nine hundred hours." Nigel said with a comedic smile.

"Oh, ha ha, funny, brother." Angela retorted. "You should've been a comedian. You know I can't tell army time."

Angela waddled across the room with the flippers outstretched and scooped up Private. She cooed in his ear and hugged him tightly like she hadn't seen him in a year. Nigel took a small bag from the corner and slung it over his shoulder.

"What do you think you're doing?" Angela asked.

"The fridge is low on fish, so I'm going to gathah some."

"Can I watch Private? Oh, please, can I?" Angela pleaded. "Pleeeeeaasse? I'll love you forever!"

Nigel paused. He would only be gone for a few moments it wasn't like he'd be gone for hours or days. He nodded reluctantly and told her that all she needed to do was keep Private entertained until he returned.

Nigel waddled out the icy entrance of the igloo and into the clearing. Artificial snow fell from the rafters above and began to cover the ground. He was heading over to the water for a small hunting expedition. The zookeepers put live fish in the water in the habitat so that the penguins did not lose their wild, independent nature. Nigel stood at the water's edge and peered down at his reflection until another appeared beside him. It was Benjamin again.

"'Ey! Nigel! How'd your talk with the commissioner go?" Benjamin asked in a low voice.

Nigel hesitated. He wasn't quite sure he wanted to share the information, even with his best friend.

"Fine." Nigel replied solemnly.

"Well that's good. What'd he say about the baby?" Benjamin persisted.

"Uh...oh look! There's one!" Nigel said, diving into the water to catch a non-existent fish. He came back up and Benjamin looked him over expectantly.

"Where's the fish?" Benjamin inquired.

"Er, oh, the tricky devil got away! Well, some othah lucky penguin will get 'im." Nigel said calmly.

Benjamin eyed him curiously. "That's odd. It must've been a supah fish to get away from you. You nevah miss a fish."

Nigel couldn't meet his friend's eyes, but remembered that he was only lying for the sake of happiness. He didn't want to drag his high-spirited friend down because of his own dark thoughts.

Benjamin had to leave because his wife needed help again, so Nigel went on with his hunting mission. When he had snagged a kipper, a couple bass, and mostly salmon. When he arrived back at the igloo he braced himself for what he'd find. He'd kick himself before Angela if anything had happened to the chick.

He walked in the entrance and set the bag of fish on the floor. Nigel looked around the living room and found Angela curled in a little ball with wide eyes and rocking back and forth. Nigel was uncertain that he wanted to know what happened, but asked anyway.

"Angela, what's wrong? Where's Private?" Nigel asked his sister.

"..." Angela said nothing and seemed speechless.

"Angela! Angela! Tell me what's wrong!" Nigel pleaded.

Angela gulped. "I-I c-can't...find...him."

Nigel was taken aback for a moment, then felt bile rise in his throat. His anger flooded through, but Nigel was not one to go ballistic. He took a deep breath and looked Angela straight in the eyes to calm her. Angela would not meet his gaze though, preferring to stare at the floor.

"Now, what do you remember before Private went missing?" Nigel asked.

Angela sniffled and wiped a tear away from her eyes. "I sat down to watch the T.V., a-and I sat down..." she managed to choke out and then took in a woeful gasp. "H-he was right beside me and I t-turned around...h-he was...gone..."

Angela sniffled again and more salty tears rolled down her cheeks. Nigel nodded in understanding and searched the house. Angela watched him run around the igloo, looking for Private. Another tear shed from her eye.

"I-I'm sorry." she squeaked.

Nigel was taken by surprise. His sister? Apologize? Was it a blue moon? Nigel stared for a moment.

"I-Its okay." he muttered just loud enough for her to hear.

He wasn't used to the whole concept of getting along with his sister. When they were kids they would fight most of the time, so it was a great rarity that Angela or he would apologize or comfort one another unless forced by someone else. As much of a gentlemen Nigel was, he never put much thought into it. A pang of regret surged through him, but focused on the thing that was more important: finding Private.

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**So...Thank you everyone who reviewed and favorited and followed the story! I hoped you liked this chapter too! Again, 3 reviews=update! :D ~Kittypig**


	6. Chapter 6: Promises

Nigel had promised himself. He promised himself that he would scour the whole London Zoo, maybe even the whole Earth if he had to, to find Private and bring him home. The weeping of Angela on the couch disturbed his thoughts every now and again. He would turn to her and tell her it was all right, but he wasn't really sure of it himself. By now Private could be in the snow leopard habitat! Nigel gulped and pushed the thought away along with a few woeful tears. He had to find Private, he just had to!

After thoroughly scanning through the igloo home, Nigel came to the conclusion that Private must be outside. He burst across the threshold and out into the clearing of the village, achieving strange looks from the others of the rookery. Like that wasn't normal. Nigel really didn't notice all of the other penguins' gazes on him; his mind was too clouded with fear for his new-found nephew. Nigel huffed and puffed, sprinting past igloo after igloo hoping that Private would coincidentally be there. Soon he came behind Hyacinth's house hold. Nigel was gulping in every breath he could get and kept himself propped up with a flipper on the cold wall. He was sweating a waterfall. He heard a small babble coming from in front of him. He lifted his head and saw Hyacinth playing patty-cake with a young toddler, most likely her son. She and the toddler eyed him curiously. The little one toddled over to Nigel, who barely caught him when he stumbled.

"Nigel! Whatever happened to you? You look like you were hit by a bus!" Hyacinth cried out, taking the toddler from him.

"I...I…was looking…f…for…P…Private!" Nigel said, kneeling down and talking between gasps.

"How's that?" Hyacinth was puzzled by his stuttering, but a wave of understanding washed over her face. "Ah! That child from the other day! Oh he is the cutest little thing! …other than _my _son, of course."

Nigel snickered. "My sistah would probably beg to diffah." Nigel got his train of thought back and looked solemn. "Have you seen him? Private, I mean."

Hyacinth was thoughtful for a moment. "Hm…I think I saw him go…that way!"

Nigel looked perturbed. "You mean you watched him crawl out of the habitat?" Nigel yelled.

Hyacinth looked a little irritated. "I was a bit busy with my own baby, thank you very much!" she gestured with her head towards the little toddling chick that kept falling down.

Nigel nodded. He began towards the entrance when Hyacinth called after him, "Wait! I have something to tell you!"

"What is it?" Nigel asked, bounding back.

"Before the baby, there was a tall and muscular penguin, beckoning him towards the entrance of the habitat. Does that mean anything to you?"

A shot of angry recognition hit Nigel right between the eyes. It was the commissioner! But why would he do this now? Nigel had expected more from his commanding officer who was so far above him in the ranks. Stealing a child was such a lowly thing to do. Nigel pushed away his thoughts and raced to the entrance with new ideas in mind. He would fight the commissioner if he had to, even if it meant he'd have no job. Anything was worth getting his nephew back.

When he was out in the warmer climate of the zoo, he looked around. Across the way was the snow leopard, her black and white coat shimmering in artificial lighting. She spotted Nigel and asked him over. He thought and walked over with a hurried mind.

"What is it?" he snapped.

The young snow leopard's eyes showed slight shock in the sense that Nigel had said it like that, but she went on.

"What's going on? I saw an old guy carrying a baby out of your habitat, then you show up, the penguin who nevah leaves home, looking like a man on a mission." She said, rolling over on her back cutely.

Nigel thought of a way to answer in which she would understand. He looked at the ground and then back at her. He nodded and dashed off again. The snow leopard sat there with a confused look on her face, licked a paw and drew it over her ear. She rolled her eyes and shook her head, returning her gaze to the old bird.

"Now what have you gotten yourself into, you old coot?" the snow leopard muttered and then went about her normal buisness.

Nigel raced along, following the path he'd assumed the commissioner would take. He could see a dark shape in the distance. He knew who it was and surged forwards, lunging at the man in question. He landed in front of him, stopping the scarred penguin in his tracks.

"Commissioner! What do you think you're doing?!" Nigel inquired angrily.

"I'm helping you!" the commissioner yelled back.

"Kidnapping a baby is _helping me_? I shuddah to think what _not helping _means to you!"

"You're going soft with all of this baby stuff! Pretty soon, you'll be a daycare employee!" the commissioner implied.

Nigel was exasperated, but was good at concealing his feelings. "Please, don't make this hard on yourself. Hand ovah Private and I won't hold this against you."

"Private?" the commissioner looked down at the baby. "You named him _Private_?"

Nigel nodded and added defensively, "He simply liked the name. Now, if you'd kindly hand him ovah."

The commissioner looked up at Nigel and then down at the baby again. "Were you planning on enrolling him in military school when he was older?"

"How is _that _any concern of yours?" Nigel asked.

"Well, if you were, I might become his future boss." The commissioner said smugly.

Nigel grunted and persisted. "I will dismiss this entiah encountah if you'd _please_ just hand the boy ovah."

The commissioner gave last glances to the two, handed Private to Nigel, and ran off. Nigel held Private close and walked back into the habitat, then into the igloo. Angela was nowhere to be seen. _That's peculiah. _He thought. He waddled over to the recliner and sat down with Private steadied on his belly, copying the game of "Peek-a-boo" from before.

Nigel laughed lightly. He picked up the baby, got up, and set him back down in the chair. Private lifted outstretched flippers and said, "Up! Up!"

Nigel couldn't do anything but smile and oblige. "I guess I have to take you with me. Come, we must find your mothah."

Nigel carried young Private on his shoulders and over to Hyacinth's igloo. At least, he was pretty confident that was where his sister had disappeared to, Hyacinth being the only neighbor. When Nigel waddled in, he had to take Private off of his shoulders because of the low ceiling. There were the two ladies, sitting on the couch and chatting restlessly. Angela let out more tears and a gasp came when she saw Private. She rushed at Nigel like a football player and took the baby. She squeezed them both in a tight bear hug, her amber eyes gleaming with excitement.

"Oh hooray! I missed you so much! What happened, Nigel? Give me every detail!" Angela insisted.

Hyacinth wasn't as interested, saying that she was much too busy with her household chores and asked of them to take their family business elsewhere. They did so, heading back to their own home. Angela cooed in Private's ear hole the whole way, and even when she sat down on the couch. The two were inseparable, and you could just tell that they were mother and son. Nigel began to think of ways to explain these things to Angela. She finally looked up from her happiness and asked, "So what _did _happen?"

Nigel cleared his throat and told her about how one of his commanding officers asked of him to be back to work. He had refused and asked for more time. Unfortunately, his commanding officer wasn't patient enough and decided to take the baby to change Nigel's mind. Angela seemed horrified at the thought.

"Take a baby? Is he insane?!" she cried.

"Apparently," Nigel said with a chuckle. "I don't know how long he'll leave this."

"If he comes anywhere near Private again I'll cut his head off!" Angela said ferociously.

Nigel smiled, although he wasn't sure he should encourage this behavior. "Well, I won't leave you and Private alone without a very good reason."

"Alright." Angela agreed.

"Funny," Nigel said. "I thought you'd want to go home back to your rookery and your husband."

Angela suddenly had a spark form a fire in her eyes. "Nope. Not at all." She said flatly.

Feeling a sense of danger in Angela, he asked to hold the baby. After he took Private from her, her flipper tips balled up and clenched. He gulped, and pushed no further into the subject although he really wanted to know why she was so touchy when her husband came up into conversation. He pondered for a moment and heard his sister relax her muscles. She sighed and looked up at him from the point of view of the couch. She looked depressed as she began.

"I suppose I should tell you how I lost…Private and he ended up here." She began. "It was when I was in Antarctica when it happened, obviously. It was the time when we females go hunting while the guys take care of the eggs. Well, I came back and noticed my husband Gerald was a little sad. He had told me that he lost the egg. I…I guess I lost my temper because…well, you know, it's so cold in Antarctica that you wouldn't expect an orphaned egg to survive. I decided to go for a walk after I…chased...Gerald…off. Then, I found human tracks and decided to follow to see where they went because I just _had _to get away, I just _had _to! When I figured out I had landed in London, I came to visit you." She gave a smile. "Then I found Private... So, you see, I just can't go back to Antarctica, I can't and I won't! There's nothing you can do to make me!"

"Oh, alright…If you say so, Angela." Nigel said submissively.

"Oh, thank you! Thank you so much!" Angela said dramatically.

Nigel was happy. "But, I must warn you not to tell him of my military background."

Angela nodded. "I didn't want to tell him, anyway."

"It would put him in jeopardy if he told anyone, even in the rookery. This is the only way of keeping both of you safe. Have you any idea how many bad men are aftah me just because I foiled their evil plots?" Angela shook her head and watched him like a child would a story teller. Nigel was thoughtful for a moment. "Me neither." They laughed together and Private giggled, just for the sake of being happy.

What a trio they were!


	7. Chapter 7: Moving

Chapter 7: The Origin of Mr. Tux

Private is a young man now, about fifteen. Uncle Nigel had been teaching him the finer things in life that Angela seems to disagree with just a tiny bit. She agrees with golf, as long as Uncle Nigel and Private don't play in the house. Golf balls are real hard, even though they're very small. Private learned this the hard way when he and his friends were playing golf and the ball ricocheted off of the igloo wall and unto his beak. That wasn't a very lovely sight. His beak had bent in ways it shouldn't, but everything was hunky-dory after a month.

Today he woke up and took a deep breath of the crisp and cold air. Not a bit of disappointment mixed in with the scent, making him feel good inside. Then again, he always feels good inside. Private yawned and stretched out his flippers, balling them up at the ends like fists. His beak opened wide and his senses were numb from his eight hour hibernation. Private stepped in the soft snow that lay below his feet and pulled his webbed toes together with the snow filling the gaps. He pushed his full weight upon his feet and shuffle across the bedroom his uncle had added on years ago. A mirror of ice showed his image, his smile and ocean blue eyes staring back at him. He is a bit pudgy, he notices, mostly from his Peanut Butter Winky addiction. The silly things just find a magical way into his mouth. Nonetheless, he admits that it is him who permits their access unto his tongue.

Private grins again, bearing in mind the sweet and sticky taste that dances on his tongue's taste buds. _Maybe Uncle Nigel will sneak me a few undah Mum's table again, just like last night's dinner._ He thinks. His mother's fish casserole may be the best in the world, but not even it can compare to the taste of a Peanut Butter Winky in his book.

Private strolled into the dining room happily, his flippers swinging at his sides as he skipped. The two at the table look up at him with smiles, as if he is a great treasure. It seems a tad awkward, but he ignores it and pours a little bit of milk into his sticky oatmeal to cool it down. A few raisins dot the sticky oats and are all puffed up from being so warm. Raisins are not his favorite, but he accepts them in his cereal anyway. He looked up again, this time Uncle Nigel is back to his newspaper and staring at pictures while his mother's gaze is still fixed on him. He gulps. This seems ominously like the time he accidentally had that football sail through the kitchen window, except this time with smiles. He looked to his left, grabbed his spoon, and shoveled the gooey oats and raisins into his beak. The soft and wrinkly raisins' skins break easily between the roof of his mouth and his tongue. _Hm…maybe this is the best time to break my own news before they drop something onto my shouldahs._ Private thought.

"Ahem," Private clears his throat to get their attention before he says anything. Plus, it just seems dignifying. "Good morning, Mum and Uncle Nigel." They smile and wave brightly. Beside of Uncle Nigel's eyes are crow's feet, that special type of wrinkle that older people get. Well, the feathers on top of his noggin are a bit grayer than Private remembers. Gee, the things you notice when there's an awkward silence.

"So…" he continued, sweating slightly from the pressure. "I was just thinking…I am a bit oldah now and I have a few feathahs on my chest and...I-I think it's time that I…flew the coop."

You could have heard a pin drop in the silence, with stares threatening as can be. He swallowed a bit of spit that seemed as hard as a brick at this point. Private was tense and wanted to sink into the floor and not be there. However, to his surprise the dense mood in the room turned lighter and Uncle Nigel's beak curled back into the beaming grin that normally takes its place there. Private let out the air he had stored in his lungs and then some. It was still quiet, but somehow he felt stress release his muscles and let his heart beat once again. Perhaps that was too easy… He watches the human children on the telly say this and their parents almost always protest. He watched his uncle's face, crow's feet and all, for a change in attitude. None came.

"Well lad," Uncle Nigel said, neatly folding the newspaper and setting it down. "I'm glad you feel that way."

"You are?"

"Yes, because we've done some decision making of our own and are thinking the exact same thing."

Private dared not to do a thing. Not to say anything foolish to get himself in trouble.

Private's mom didn't look as pleased as Uncle Nigel and spoke. "Your uncle and I have decided that you and I will be moving to the United States of America."

Okay, what are these two thinking? What was _he _thinking, bringing up the subject?

"I know this may be a big surprise to you, but it's for the best. Just trust us." His mom said.

That was easy for her to say. Or was it? Private paid attention to her voice more closely to see if there was the slightest crack of uncertainty. Not much.

"B-but…"

"I hear there's good golfing there. You better get to practicing, boy." Nigel winked and Private automatically sent himself to his bedroom.

He didn't know why he went to his room, it just seemed like he should. His bed seemed even more welcoming at this point, and he fell into the clutches of the soft mattress and daydreamed.

Meanwhile, in the kitchen, Nigel and Angela exchanged glances as Private left for his room.

"Poor baby…I wish we could tell him the truth."

"I agree, Angela, but it's too risky. You know what would happen if he knew. When the lad's oldah he'll be able to figure it out…hopefully before it's too late." Nigel said.

"Too late?" Angela asked.

"Before the commissioner can figure out what I've done."

"Why in the world is that man still in power?" Angela questioned rather loudly.

Nigel shook his head. "I'm not sure."

"I wish I could knock him down a notch or two." Angela said fiercely with two balled up flippers in a boxing pose.

Nigel chuckled at his sister.

"Well, you had better get to packing. The undocking of the boat commences at 1200 hours."

She gave him an annoyed glare. "And when is that?"

"Twelve o'clock."

"Why didn't you say that in the first place?"

"I like to torment you." Nigel grinned like any naughty uncle would.

"Oh you!" Angela punched his shoulder.

Nigel watched out the window after Angela left the room, somehow intrigued by the plain air. He stared off into space for a while, not even blinking until he yawned and realized he needed another sip of coffee. The bitter brew stimulated his senses and threw all notions of sluggishness out the door. He zipped into Private's room for no apparent reason and found the room empty, a cool breeze coming from the window where the curtains flowed freely in the wind.

Nigel looked out and saw little webbed footprints in the snow. Nigel hopped out the window and pursued the boy like a bloodhound to a rabbit.

Private was just walking aimlessly in the snow, not really minding where in the habitat he'd end up in. In fact, Uncle Nigel and his mom don't really let him past the habitat walls. He didn't remember a time when he had been anywhere other than their refrigerator of a home. He kicks up a flurry of snow that blows back against his belly and chills him a little. When he looks up, there is the door to the outside world. He is intrigued and has an intention to open it up and slip out there, but his good nature stops him. Uncle Nigel always told him there were monsters out there when he was younger, and when he asked he showed him a picture of a furry creature with razor sharp incisors and claws. He said they were called Badgers. He wonders about this, if "badgers" really exist or if Uncle Nigel was just joshing. He _does _do that from time to time.

This time curiosity prevails and his good nature is defeated. Private's feet start towards the door and he can't stop. He has to jump for the handle. He rocks back onto his haunches and takes a mighty leap, wrapping his flippers around the cold knob. _Chi-chock! _He can now get out of here. His access is now limitless.

When he steps out onto the concrete, everything is new and different. There is the buttery smell of popcorn like the kind his Uncle Nigel brings home sometimes. There's also the sweet smell of cotton candy. _Maybe Uncle Nigel was wrong, the outside of our habitat seems alright_, Private thinks. Across the way was another animal with very pretty fur and eyes like the sapphires in his mom's necklaces. She beckoned for him to come over there, and he was very unsure. She fit the description that his Uncle Nigel said the blood-thirsty badgers had. Sharp claws and teeth? Check. Big and furry? Check. Probability of her trying to eat him for her next meal? One-hundred and one percent. Private stood frozen in place and flattened himself against the wall. She rolled her eyes, checked around and leaped down from her rock. She bounded over a fence and walked over to Private calmly. She was even prettier up close and a few earrings hung in her left ear.

"Hey, what are you doing out of your habitat, little fellow?" Well, she was nice.

"M-me?" Private gulped. He was still pretty sure she was a badger.

"You seem to be the only runaway penguin here." She smiled, baring huge fangs.

He cringed. "A-are you a b-badgah?"

She looked a little angry at first, and then her head swung backwards for a laugh. She wiped a tear from her eye and smiled.

"You're funny. I'm not a badger, you silly boy. I'm a snow leopard."

"R-really? You sure do match Uncle Nigel's description." Private said with a sniffle.

"Nigel? Oh, I know him! Ah yes, he's a good _old_ friend." She really put the emphasis on "_old_".

"Well, he's my best uncle." I said. "So, you're not going to eat me then?"

"Of course not! Yuck, who ever heard of eating a penguin? Disgusting."

Private was happy to find a friend out here in the world. Their nice chat was interrupted by Uncle Nigel's sharp voice in the doorway. _What did I do wrong? _He asked himself forgetfully, _Oh yeah…_

"Private! What are you doing out here?" he yelled, although it wasn't stern or angry.

"I-I was just…" it's a little hard to explain when you knew you'd done something wrong.

"Come on home, son. You've packing to do." Uncle Nigel said.

He hung his head and shot a remorseful glance towards the snow leopard who looked a little concerned. Private waved good-bye and waddled back over to Uncle Nigel and he wrapped his flipper around his shoulders. When they were in the habitat again he released the boy to walk on his own and Private kept his pace as best he could. It was a wordless stroll, but that was okay because Private didn't feel much like talking anyway.

When they got back Private began to pack his things into the brown leather suitcase he'd decorated with his favorite colorful stickers. There were cookies, rainbows, kittens, puppies, and his absolute favorites, the Lunacorns like on the telly. He gathered up a comb, his favorite golf club, and a T-shirt that was blue with a rainbow on it. It had words, but he can't read. Private closed the suitcase and pulled the zipper all the way around to seal the few things he had inside and slung it onto the bed. His heart feels like the things in the suitcase, unable to break free from where they are imprisoned. Maybe that's him. No, he's excited. He wanted to go and now he is. But what about Uncle Nigel? Why won't he go? His mother's call pulls him from pondering this and he is forced back to life.

"Private! Let's go! We don't want to miss the boat!"

"I'm coming, Mum!" he calls back.

He takes one last look at his cluttered room and steps out the bedroom door.

* * *

**Hiya! I'm back! Please review! ^_^ -Kittypig**


	8. Chapter 8:'Ello, Wild America!

Chapter 8: 'Ello, Wild America!

The two penguins walked through the zoo with haste, Private lagging behind because of his curiosity. He waved good-bye to the snow leopard from before when exiting the habitat, and she absently waved back. Inside other exhibits were interesting animals Private hadn't imagined before. There was a whale that frightened Private because he was so big, but they got to talk to him and discovered he was really gentle. There were cute little rodents that lived there that hopped to and fro through their habitat. Private watched the tiny rodents until his mom pulled him away from the glass.

Private and his mother left the zoo and walked out into the city. Private was mesmerized by all of the tall buildings and the old looking places. His eyes scanned every brick and every nook and cranny of the amazing architecture. He ended up stumbling once or twice, making his mother laugh. Private picked himself up and brushed himself off. He held his suit case once again.

"Yes, well, I suppose that was sort of funny." He said.

"Your uncle certainly rubbed off on you. You have his temperament." Angela smiled.

Private nodded. He always thought his uncle was sort of silly and more of a dad. Not really much of a serious guy. Well, maybe he _was _a little Uncle Nigel with his optimism. They got to walking again and came to a rather large dock with so many boats it'd make your head swim. Private began to follow the crowd when his mother pulled him back by his flipper.

"No, not that way." She said.

"Why not, Mum? Everyone else is going that way." Private said, pulling from her grip but not leaving.

"Because humans don't like the idea of us being just as smart as they are. If they do find out, well…things get ugly." Angela said.

"Oh…" Private said, not pushing the subject any further although he was very curious.

Angela and Private waited behind the wall, peering out to see how many humans were left to board before they could. Finally, the last person went onto the boat and the two penguins ran up to the boat. Angela grabbed Private by the flipper, swung him around, and threw him onto the rising anchor. She took the luggage in hand and hopped over herself, and smiled. Private hugged the anchor tightly with wide eyes and heavy, quick breaths.

"W-what'd you do that for?" Private asked.

"How else was I supposed to get you on the boat?"

"Good point."

Angela climbed up the rope with Private at her heels. Private stopped every now and again when the cold waves splashed up on him. They were on the wooden deck where humans were throwing flowers and other things over the edge of the railing and hooting and hollering away. Private cocked his head to the side.

"Mum, what are they doing?" he asked.

"I guess they're celebrating leaving home." Angela answered.

Private watched them for a moment before his mom pulled him away. She dragged him into a small room where an older looking man sat and steered the boat. A bottle sat beside the wheel he clutched so tightly and he had lots of scraggly facial hair. He hummed a tune as he watched the waves roll across his view.

"I thought we weren't supposed to be seen." Private said.

"Don't worry, son. He has those headphone things on his ears." Private looked and sure enough, there was a headset perched on the man's cranium.

Private stared and could hear the music from where he stood, far across the room. Angela waddled to the side of the room and found a map. She traced it along until she found North America. She beckoned Private to her side and pointed to their destination.

"This is where we're going." Angela said.

Private nodded and turned to watch the waves tumble towards the boat and crash against the sides. His eyes matched the color of the ocean, making it that much more interesting. He plopped down beside of the captain, who was still steering the boat and paying no mind to him, and looked out to the never-ending horizon. Maybe it wouldn't end…

A few days passed until finally the boat stopped and everyone walked off the boat. The two penguins weren't far behind, avoiding the public eyes by hiding behind barrels and other things. Private and Angela travelled through the town quickly, not knowing which one it was but not caring. Angela told Private that where they were going to live, there was no zoo. They were to be wild and free. Well, if you count the desert as "wild" and "free".

Tumbleweeds scooted by as they approached the small cottage at which they'd be staying. Private waddled across the hot sands to the wooden shelter, hoping to get off his burning feet. He pushed the door open with all his effort and plunged across the threshold. The floor was inviting, with the coolness that Private needed. He rubbed the tips of his flippers against the smooth linoleum and almost had the nerve to kiss it. His mother stepped in calmly, slapped him lovingly, and helped him to his feet. Private rubbed the back of his neck, staring at the colorful diamond design on the floor. `

"Er, well, yes…I guess I'm just used to the cold."

Angela rolled her eyes. "Well, get used to the warm and humid now. It stays that way for a while around here."

"Okay." Private nodded, inspecting the house.

The cottage was small on the outside, but the architect who built it apparently knew how to maximize space. There was a loveseat as you walked in the door, with two cushions and blue like the ocean. In fact, the whole room was decorated in cool colors with purples, blues, grays, and black, much like a naval theme. The T.V. or telly, as Private called it, was a reasonable size. To a penguin, at least.

Beyond the living room was the kitchen, where an old stove, counter, sink, and refrigerator stood filed against the wall neatly. The sink was gray and made of a strong metal. The stove was black, shiny but a little beat up. The counter tops were a dark, navy blue and the cabinets were made of a cheap plastic made to imitate dark cherry wood.

Beside of the kitchen stood bunk beds with green blankets and white pillows. The thought of a bed made Private yawn drowsily. He was about to call it a day when his mother called to him.

"Private," she said, ushering him towards a door in the kitchen. "You have to see this. I think you'll love it."

Private was pushed out onto the sand that itched between his toes, but now it didn't matter. What he saw made all feeling leave and his jaw dropped. Right in front of him was a home version of a golf course. He ran around it for a few moments, cheering joyously. Then, he ran back through the cottage, snatched his lucky golf club and golf ball, and ran outside. He set the tee down and planted it firmly in the ground. Private perched the small, heavy ball on the tee and pulled his club back for the swing.

"Four!" he called, ensuring that his mother minded where she stood.

The club swung down from behind Private's shoulder blade and struck the ball, sending it through the series of traps laid out. Anticipation surged through Private as the ball rocked back and forth at the edge of the hole. Finally the white ball made its decision and fell in with a _plop! _

"Yahoo! Hole in one, Mum! Hole in one!" Private yelled, dropping the golf club and taking his mom's flippers in his, dancing around in a circle.

His mom played along with his shenanigans, skipping around in the sand. Soon, the celebration ended and they settled in for the night. The temperature dropped dramatically and suddenly the desert came alive. Coyotes and jackrabbits crossed the "yard" like tumbleweeds and the sun drooped behind the dunes on the horizon. A howl in the distance made Private quiver and whimper. Another came, and it was closer. A third, closer still. Private was so disturbed he couldn't swallow anymore fish casserole, and set his silverware down on the loveseat's arm. Angela eyed him curiously.

"What's wrong, dear? You look scared." Angela daintily dropped her fork onto the purple plastic plate.

"J-just a little fright, that's all." Private shivered again, listening to a howl in the distance. "M-mum, why does it s-sound like those c-c-coyotes are getting closer?"

Angela held her flipper to her chin. "Hm… I'm not quite sure."

A knock at the door stopped the conversation and sent Private under the bed with a pillow for a shield. Angela sighed, set her plate down on the loveseat and approached the door calmly. Her flipper was just an inch from the door knob when Private cried out, "No, Mum, don't! There might b-be a badgah on the othah side!"

Still, Angela persisted and tugged the door open. On the other side of the threshold was a group of coyotes, a large, broad shouldered one with a dark brown pelt at the front. He smiled, showing all of his teeth, but Angela refused to flinch. A little rabbit pushed through the five coyotes and he smiled, holding a potted cactus out as a gift. Angela accepted with a nice grin.

"Hello, what may I do for you?" she asked, putting a damper on the moment.

"Oh, um…good afternoon…ma'am…I uh…_we_ would like to welcome you to our…neighborhood!" the lead coyote said dumbly. He didn't seem like much of a talker.

"You're a bit sheepish for a coyote." Angela joked in a murmur so she didn't insult the poor old dog.

A female coyote with a brilliantly red pelt pushed her way to the front. "Excuse me," she said politely. "He's not much of a talker around strangers. Anyway, we hope we're not bothering you."

"No, not at all."

"…Good. Well, we heard there were going to be new animals around here. Although, we didn't think they'd be a penguin."

"Oh, I'm not the only one. My son is here too." Angela looked around. "Private! Come here please!"

Obediently but hesitantly Private slid out from under the bed and to his mom's side with his eyes downcast. Angela patted Private on the back, smiling brightly.

"Well howdy, little critter!" the female coyote said. "Your name's Private?"

Private nodded shyly and didn't look up. Private then stepped behind his mother, taking peeks at the visitors. The lady coyote was kind of pretty, he supposed. She had emerald green eyes that glittered in the moonlight. The male beside her seemed clumsy, his pelt dull compared to the lady beside him. He had brown eyes, but some longer fur fell in front of his right eye. He remained silent while his friend talked the whole time. The little jackrabbit at the coyotes' paws was smiling, showing off his huge buck teeth. His long ears looked like they'd be much more comfortable drooped down at the sides of his face, but for some reason they remained upright. He had huge eyes and a very twitchy nose that wiggled around while he scanned the area he was in.

"Oh, I'm sorry, ma'am. I forgot to mention out names! My name is Cathy. Some call me chatty." Said the lady coyote with a joking smile. "My friend here is my boyfriend, Walter. And this little fellow is Bucky."

Walter waved meekly and Bucky ran in a small circle. "Hey, who ya callin' little?" Bucky contradicted Cathy.

"Anyway, we just wanted to welcome you to the neighborhood and hope you enjoy your stay. We'll see you around!"

Cathy, Walter, and Bucky left with their group and ran off to the sand dunes in the distance. Angela closed the door and sighed; kind of happy they'd gone. Private was definitely happy, pulling off his best happy dance. Angela waddled to the loveseat, picked up her plate, and frowned.

"I wish they hadn't stayed so long. The casserole got cold."

"Aww…" Private said, slowing down to take a bite of his casserole. "Oh well, still has flavor."

Angela chuckled and patted his head. "That's my boy."

* * *

**Hmm... New neighbors good or bad? Maybe both! :) Anywho, thatnks to those who reviewed and have been reviewing! BTW, I defeated writer's block! For now, anyway... Well, please tell me what you think of this chapter and I'll update, all right? ^_^**


	9. Chapter 9: Mr Tux's Career

Chapter 9: Mr. Tux's Career

The next day, the coyotes and the jackrabbit came back to the house. Private was shy and hid behind his mother while the rest of them sipped tea. When he slipped out, he had his golf bag slung over his shoulders. He almost reached the door when Cathy called towards him.

"Where ya goin', little feller?" Cathy said, noticing him heading towards the back door.

"Just going…to play…some golf…?" Private stuttered.

Angela smiled. Cathy and her gang's eyes lit up.

"Golf? You guys play golf too?" Cathy squealed. "Can we please join you? Pleeeaaase?"

Private's eyes darted to the door, to his mother, and to the visitors. He was frozen, put on the spot. _No, Private no, they're carnivores! _Private's conscience told him. However, his mom overruled the conscience's decision.

"I think Private would be _delighted _to have you play golf with him." Angela said, glancing at Private with her amber eyes that commanded authority. "Wouldn't you, Private?"

Private let out the breath he was holding and murmured, "Yes, Mum."

Private trudged out the back door, letting the sand bury his feet. The neighbors followed, and stood in awe at the sight of Private's makeshift golf course. Bucky zipped around the whole thing and gave a thumbs up when he was done.

"Looks faaaaantasic, Private!" he saluted, being silly.

"Um, thank you, I think…" Private said, handing him a short golf club.

"Yeah, it is impressive. Who built it?" Cathy marveled, taking a golf club into her paw gingerly.

"My mum did," Private replied, rubbing the back of his head and giving a wide grin.

Walter came forward and took a golf club, too and finally talked. "Your mother is an amazing architect."

Walter's voice was soft and friendly, and he was gentle with the club he held in his hands. Private nodded, and Walter returned the gesture with a sheepish smile. The four of them stood where the ball rested on the tee. They all agreed that the rule was "Ladies First" and allowed Cathy to try first. She stepped up to the ball and clenched her golf club tightly. The ball was scarlet, the color of her choice. She took her posture, pulled the club back, and swung. _Twink! _She hit the ball lightly, and it sounded like someone tapped on glass. The ball weaved through a few traps, but slowed down and stopped in the middle of the course.

"Awwww…! Doggone it! Oh, well, I've never been any good at this game anyway." Cathy blushed a little and gripped her club firmly.

Next up was Bucky, who moved so fast, Private wondered how he'd grown equipped to a quiet game like miniature golf. Bucky stood up there and tapped his toes to the ground like he was impatient. He drew back his club and struck the ball with all his might, knocking it into Cathy's ball and not going any further.

"Aw, nuts! Your turn, Walter." Bucky said disappointedly.

Walter nodded and stepped forward. He looked like he was shaking, and he took a gulp. He chose a blue ball, and set it on the tee. He spun the club around like a ninja, and then he pulled it back and hit the ball expertly. The ball swerved past the other two and it landed right outside the hole. It tilted and rolled in, making the three visitors jump for joy and hug each other. Cathy leaned over and gave Walter a kiss on the cheek, making him blush.

"Okay, Private, your turn!" Cathy trilled cheerfully.

"O-okay, here I go…" Private said nervously.

Private stood at the tee, staring at the orange golf ball that seemed to eye him back. He pulled the golf club in his hand back and struck the ball. The golf ball evaded traps and did a serpentine all the way into the hole. Private smiled modestly.

"Lucky Shot, I suppose." He said.

"Yeah, sure," Cathy said skeptically. "I think you and Walter should have a game to yourselves. I can't play very well, anyway."

"Yeah!" Bucky agreed.

"Challenged accepted," Walter said, holding out his paw for a hand-shake. "And may the best animal win."

Private nodded and shook Walter's paw. He gulped, but his heart beat fast in excitement. Now that Walter was acquainted with Private and his mother, he seemed more confident and outgoing than before. Private still kind of thought of the coyotes as predators, but now that they all had a common interest he seemed more at ease and relaxed, too. As soon as Walter got the next hole-in-one, Private stepped up to the tee and scored another as well. They kept scoring perfectly until the last hole. The two were neck-and-neck and starting to get really competitive. Walter missed, with his ball falling into the clutches of a trap. Private stepped up to the tee for the last time in the game, and struck the ball. It swerved from side to side, trap to trap, until finally…_Clunk! _The ball fell in, declaring Private the winner of the game.

Walter's ears drooped at the sides of his head, and he whimpered at being beaten. Private did not boast or brag; instead he waddled over to the discouraged canine and patted him on the back where he could reach. Walter looked down with his puppy dog eyes.

"Don't worry, Waltah," Private smiled warmly. "Keep practicing, and maybe you can beat me someday."

Hearing these words made Walter pull his ears up a little. "You really think so?" he asked.

"Yeah, come back if you evah want to play again. I need a good playah like you around to practice with." Private encouraged, showing the kindness that he had been taught by his uncle.

"Wow, thanks, Private!" all three of the animals said simultaneously.

After a few more games and cups of tea, the visitors left. With smiles wide and spirits lifted, they said good bye and promised to come by again soon. Angela was satisfied that Private had made new friends, and Private was happy he was able to find someone who enjoyed miniature golf as much as he did.

About a year passed and animals came from all around to challenge Private. He took on a nickname, Mr. Tux, to make it easier for others to identify him. He faced challenge after challenge, peacefully encouraging the ones who lost, and always told them they were welcome back any time they wanted. He even invited the dusty and sandy challengers inside for a little tea. All was well, until…_it _happened.

A warm day in july gone horribly wrong. A devastating disaster that would haunt Private for the rest of his life. When _he _showed up. The Amarillo Kid.

An armadillo that looked as sketchy as a coloring book, with a cold stare and a sandy suit of armor. When he arrived there was a knock at the door. When Private answered, the armadillo had curled up in a ball and rolled across the threshold. He uncurled himself and gave a snort for a laugh.

"I'm lookin' for Mr. Tux!" he yelled loudly.

"Oh, 'ello there. I am Mr. Tux. I suppose you're here for a golf match?" Private said.

"Yeah, I'm here to beat the champ." The armadillo replied with a pose.

"Alright then, the course is out back. C'mon, I'll show you."

The armadillo rolled along behind Private until they made it to the backyard. The armadillo snorted again and pulled a golf club seemingly out of nowhere. Private pulled a club from his bag, and they decided who would go first. The Amarillo Kid insisted that Private go first because he was the champion, and winners always begin the game. Docile Private accepted the offer and advanced to the tee. The Amarillo Kid seemed to watch Private's every move with his cold eyes and his sneer showed a little too much confidence. _Confidence. _Was that even the right word for this armadillo's attitude? Private shook his head and eyed the ball. It seemed to shiver in anticipation for the incoming clash with the golf club.

"Any time you're ready, _Mr. Tux,_" Amarillo Kid said.

Something about the way he said Mr. Tux unnerved Private. He emphasized the T and said the name more like a threat. What did he have up his sleeve? Private continued to concentrate on his swing, how agile he was, and how hard he hit the ball. When he tapped it, he got a hole-in-one. So did the Amarillo Kid. _Just the first round. Don't get your knickers in a twist. _Private thought of this saying his Uncle Nigel would say when things would get a little out of hand.

Soon enough, the two competitors were at the eighteenth hole. A bystander came by. A cute little girl opossum with an ice cream in her paws. Private and the Amarillo Kid were at a tie. Whoever got this one was the winner. When Private approached the tee, becoming the victor of the game seemed impossible. There was one way that Private _could _win. But it was despicable. Unthinkable. Terrible. Dishonorable for Private to do. However, his pride took over and made him a monster. It forced his flippers to clutch the club in a way that made the ball curve into the air and land in the little opossum girl's ice cream, and roll back onto the course into the hole. The little girl cried, devastated because of her loss of her delectable dairy treat.

Private cursed himself for doing such an awful and rueful thing. This wasn't him. He dropped to his knees and dropped his golf club. The Amarillo Kid watched, but without dismay. Oh yes, he was disgraced at himself for losing, but was triumphant in a way. He ruined his opponent's reputation. Made him no longer an honest player. He made Private a cheating, ruthless, jerk. He grinned meanly.

* * *

Angela watched the armadillo and Private walk across the house to the backyard while she was boiling the tea water. She stared into the boiling water, wondering about Nigel. They had exchanged phone calls in the middle of the night, making sure that Private was asleep before she called. But this time was different. The phone that hung on the wall rang so noisily it shook. Angela was alarmed at the sudden noise and when she went to answer it she fumbled it in her flippers. When she finally gripped it in her right flipper, she pulled it up to her ear hole.

"Hello?" she said with a puzzled tone.

"Angela," a muffled and out of breath voice came from the other end of the line.

"Nigel? Is that you?" Angela asked. Hearing the familiar voice was pleasing, but at the same time disturbing because of its nervous modulation.

"Yes," Nigel said, still heaving breaths. "It's me. Listen, I need you to- Hyah!- I need you to get Private out of there. Yaaaahhh!"

There was the sound of a struggling fight and things breaking in the background, scaring Angela even more.

"Nigel! What…"

"_He's _found you and Private! I want you to leave! _Now!_"

"B-but Nigel, I don't understand…"

"I said _**NOW!**_" Nigel screamed and hung up.

There was a loud buzzing on Angela's end, followed by a short tri-tone and "We are sorry but your call has been dropped…" Angela slammed the phone back onto the receiver and smashed her fists to the countertop.

"Nigel, I swear… Augh, I shouldn't have thought about you…" Angela cursed a few words, and then threw herself down on the couch. "Great, now how do I explain moving to Private?"

Angela decided to drag herself off the couch and call Private inside to tell him. When she called him in, he trudged inside, and his competitor rolled away. She saw his dismayed face, and wondered what was wrong. Instead of asking, she told him that they were going to have to move. To Angela's surprise, Private actually perked up at the idea. He grabbed his suitcase and told his mom he'd be ready when she was.

* * *

Within a few hours, they were both packed. Ready to leave and have another fresh start. Private thought he might miss all those golf matches, but then remembered that little opossum girl's face. If he never played golf again, that couldn't happen. He wouldn't be that monster that fed on his pride.

The journey started on foot, with the two penguins waddling north. Soon they came to a road, where huge semi-trucks and cars zoomed by and ruffled their feathers. Private's mother grabbed his flipper tightly and jumped for the bumper of the next car that came their way. Private was stunned until he landed. When he looked up, he was moving.

"M-Mum?"

"You wouldn't have jumped if I told you to." She recited.

"Oh, right."

Within a few days, the penguins had gone very far north east. They hitch-hiked from car to car, each time Angela scared Private out of his wits, but reminded him that he wouldn't have jumped if she asked him to. They were flying through town, enjoying the wind in their feathers. But there was a sudden stop and they were thrown into the back window of the taxi they had been riding. The driver turned at the sudden thud and began to scream.

"Ahhhhh! Wild animals! Someone call Animal Control!"

In a quick five minutes there was a vehicle dispatched to the location. Two nets were dropped, and there was a sudden pain in Private's backside. He turned his head to see a decorated dart with a rather long needle point. His pupils dilated and he danced around, dizzy. He heard his mom cry out his name and scream a few choice words at the people that were shooting at them. He saw many stars pass through his vision and fell over onto the asphalt, with his eyes involuntarily closing.

* * *

**Hey, everybody! Okay, so, creepy cliffhanger? Still, not torture. Well, thanks to the two who did review last time, and I hope that maybe more of you readers will be encouraged to review as well. Just put what you think about it. I only ask for your opinion. Until the next chapter, see ya! -Kittypig ^_^**


	10. Chapter 10: A New Home

Chapter 10: A New Home

When Private wakes up, stars cloud his vision and he has a terribly ferocious headache. He only assumes the worst has happened. That his nightmare he hoped had been only a dream is a reality. On the bright side, he doesn't think he's dead. He rubs the back of his head and sits up the best he can, working around his doughy belly. All is dark, and there are small holes in the wooden walls of his prison that allow a little light. Straw lines the floor and swishes around, making him itchy. As he searches for a way out he hears…voices? Private remains quiet to see if they are familiar, hoping that one of them is his mother.

"Kowalski! Analysis on this strange, intruding object!" barks a commanding voice.

There is a short tapping before another voice responds. "It appears to be a wooden crate, sir."

This must be "Kowalski". And apparently, Private is in a wooden crate.

"Kaboom?" asks a third voice.

"No, Rico. No kaboom…yet." Says the first voice. The way they imply "yet" scares Private. Are they going to blow him up? Would they do something so terrible? Private wants to burst out of the stuffy box, tell them that he is no threat, but fear forces him to stay. In fact, Private is unable to move. A statement from Kowalski saves him from the torturous ways of the other two voices.

"Skipper, sir, there _is _a possibility this crate is filled with fish!" Kowalski says, sounding overjoyed at the thought.

_Mmm…fish._ Private thinks of the salty tang and his stomach growls. His mouth waters as well, but his stomach is loud and most concerning.

"Gah!" Skipper's voice yelps. "It's growling! Kowalski, options!"

"Kaboom?" Rico asks more insistently, before Kowalski even has time to open his mouth.

"Yes, Rico. But only one stick of that T.N.T. got it?" Skipper orders.

Private panics and finally calls, "'Ello? Who's there?"

There is a pause, followed by a few murmurs of discontent. Finally, Skipper is loud and clear, telling the other two to crack the crate open. There is a ripping sound and the wall in front of him falls to the ground. The sudden light bouncing off the concrete ground blinds Private for a moment, until his eyes adjust. Private finds himself staring at three other penguins, each taller than him and with the same colored eyes. There is one, flat-headed, with a round belly, and only a few inches taller than Private, that talks first.

"Alright, you've got five seconds, spy! Who are you and who do you work for?" He demands.

He is Skipper, Private can tell by his voice. He tackles Private and they double over into the surrounding water. Private struggles to the surface with Skipper on his tail and drags himself ashore.

"I-I'm sorry, sir! I don't mean to intrude, nor do I know what you're saying!" Private defends.

Skipper scoffs and crosses his flippers, "A likely story for a _spy._"

Private doesn't rightly know what a _"spy" _is. He just knows that Skipper seems to think of them as some kind of enemy. A tall and skinny penguin taps on a clipboard with a pencil and then taps his chin as well. He writes something down and passes the clipboard to Skipper. Skipper grins, kind of menacingly, and looks up at Private. The whole time, another penguin of medium height with a scar on the left side of his beak and his feathers atop his head styled in a mohawk has been staring Private down and growling. He doesn't seem to talk, but if he did, he would probably be saying some nasty things. He mutters a couple things that are audible but not understandable.

"Stand down, Rico." Skipper says to the growling penguin. "We have another way to make this _spy _talk."

Private gulps. Somehow, this doesn't sound very friendly. Rico laughs, but in an evil way. Kowalski, apparently the one with the clipboard, is grinning as well. They push little Private down to the ground and slap him in the side of the neck. Everything goes fuzzy and fades black while Private's brain shuts down on him. His last thought is that he wished his mom was there. _She would have protected me… _he thinks.

Later, Private wakes up completely incapacitated. The others have tied his flippers and feet together, covered his mouth, and blindfolded him. Private's senses are useless, except for hearing and smell. He can tell that Skipper, Kowalski, and Rico stand before him and converse about what they're going to do. Private is not familiar with half of the names they call their forms of torture, but he's not sure that he likes them.

"I say we go with The Burning Dip." Skipper says.

"Yeah, yeah, yeah! Sssssssss…" Rico adds, impersonating a fryer.

Private quivers and whimpers. _They couldn't do something so lethal as to fry me, could they?_

"Um, Skipper, perhaps something less…opposing means?" Kowalski proposes. Private sighs in relief. At least one of them doesn't fancy his death. Well, at least not as much as the others.

"Kowalski! There are no 'un-opposing' ways of torture!" Skipper scolds Kowalski.

Kowalski cowers behind his clipboard and goes silent. There went Private's last defense. He's on his own now. Private makes a few muffled noises through the handkerchief to show that he is awake, and they look at each other.

"Rico, take the blindfold off and the hanky out of his mouth." Skipper ordered.

Rico did so, and Private could see and speak again. He is in a concrete room, where the door is on the far side of the room and many unknown machines that buzz surround him. Private stares ahead to the three penguins that think he is the enemy. He sits there, wondering when he'll be released. Or fried.

After a long staring contest, Skipper says, "So, you say you're _not _a spy, huh?" he rubs his chin and circles Private. He looks him over, like Private is some sort of gem, in silence. He even takes a poke at Private's belly. "Yeah, I don't think someone would send a kid to do a _man's _job."

Private ponders this for a moment. _Well, I suppose I'm not technically an adult, but I know how to look after myself._ Private contradicts in his head. He doesn't argue out loud because he knows that if he does, they'd probably shoot him on the spot. He holds his breath, waiting for a verdict.

"But," Skipper interjected, "Let's keep him under _lockdown _just in case."

Private looked at him in disbelief. _Lockdown? _

"B-but, Sir I…" Private begins to argue.

"No buts!" Skipper scolded.

Private snickered in spite of the rising tension. Skipper ordered Rico and Kowalski to untie him, but put him inside of a metal barred cage. Private stood on his feet and held the bars in his flippers. All of a sudden, there was a push on the container and he was being moved. He was pushed out the door and into a main room, where there were holes carved into the wall, a T.V. in the corner, a stereo, and a set of stairs leading up to a periscope. Private turns his head to the other side of the room. There is a concrete table, where Skipper sits with a mug that has a salmon occupying it. He takes a sip of what smells like coffee and sets it back on the table.

Kowalski and Rico pull up cement blocks as chairs and sit down too. Kowalski sketches on his clipboard and Rico busies himself with his doll's hair. Private sits down in the middle of the cage, with nothing to do but stare at the clock and study his surroundings. He looks at Skipper and decides to make small talk.

"Um…so, is this your home?"

Skipper stirs, but doesn't answer.

Private decides to try another question.

"Is that your telly ovah there?" he asks, pointing to the television.

Skipper glances over and nods. Private sits quietly for a moment, rocking back and forth on his back. He uncurls himself and leans back, propped up by the ends of his flippers. He taps his toes together awkwardly. He remembers that his favorite show is on. He blushes in embarrassment when the thought of his next inquiry.

"M-may I watch it?"

Skipper glared at him, and Private looked away.

"Er, um, n-nevah mind."

He falls silent for a while, until he falls asleep. Then, he snores.

The other three penguins tower over him, looking at the clock. It reads seven o' clock.

"Definitely a kid." Skipper says. "A man stays up 'til ten."

Kowalski finishes sketching on his clipboard and says, "Skipper, if I may make a suggestion," he starts, "perhaps our team could use and addition."

Skipper scoffs, "Addition? Kowalski, we can't just go around picking up orphans off the street!"

Kowalski isn't cowering this time and argues. "Skipper, need I remind you that _Rico _was one of those 'orphans'?" Kowalski reasons.

Skipper backpedalled and stood in shock. He remembered that Kowalski was right. Rico had come to them from a very hurtful past. He came at about age eighteen a couple years ago. His eyes were hurt and not trusting, and his scar on the left side of his beak was fresh. He wasn't able to speak, and if he could, he wasn't outgoing in the first place. Soon, he softened up though, and Skipper and Kowalski learned that he was just a big kid. Skipper accepted him because of his appetite for destruction and his specialty with weapons.

Now there was a similar decision at hand. Kowalski watched Skipper's eyes return to meet his. Skipper's gaze was cold, but Kowalski wouldn't give in. Kowalski was Skipper's best friend, more like brother, and he wasn't about to let his best friend make a foolish decision. Rico stepped in too, giving Skipper a death stare.

Skipper finally sighs in defeat, "Fine. We'll take him in."

Rico lets out a "Yay!" and Kowalski smiles.

"Rico, make a bed for the…private." Skipper orders and Rico walks over to the wall that has three slots in it, and up-chucks a stick of dynamite to toss into the air. When it explodes it creates another bunk where Rico throws up a pillow and a green blanket. He smiles at his accomplishment, puts his flippers on his hips and puffs out his chest.

"Good job." Skipper says, patting Rico on the head.

Private began to stir in the cage, and found Skipper, Kowalski, and Rico looming over him with creepy grins pasted across their beaks. Private's eyes widened in fear that they may have found out what torture they were going to use on him.

"'Ello, what's all this then?" Private asked, very frightened.

The other three penguins help him to his feet.

"We've decided to accept you onto our team." Kowalski explains.

"Team?"

"Yeah," Skipper says, "_team. _ We're a cohesive penguin unit. Commando unit. Are you in or out?"

"Um…in?" Private says, more like a question because he wasn't sure how to answer.

"Great. What's your name?" Skipper asks like a quiz.

"P-Private." Private replies.

The other three step back.

"You're serious?" Skipper asks.

Private nods, unsure of why they were so surprised by his name. He never even thought twice about it. He supposed it was sort of unique.

"And you haven't had any military training before?" Kowalski follows up.

Private shakes his head. He had never met any military penguins that he knew of. The other three exchange glances, as if not sure if they are making the right decision, until Skipper breaks the awkward silence.

"Welcome to the team, Private. I guess your rank will be easy to remember. You're a private."

Later, the penguins have a big celebration to welcome their newest teammate. They had fish, smoothies and watched movies all night until they crashed. Private got to know his new friends, and they got to know him as well. Now, Private felt that he could leave the whole "Mr. Tux" thing behind him. But, he still thought of his mother, and wondered about her every day. Maybe they would cross paths again someday. For now, however, Private only dreamed of seeing his mother and Uncle Nigel again.

* * *

**The End! How did you like the story? ^^ BTW, thanks for the reviews! It really keeps me motivated to write more whenever there are reviews! So, thank you for reading and please tell me what you think of the story! See ya! -Kittypig**


	11. Epilogue or Something

Epilogue or Something

Angela's eyes fluttered open at the first noise she heard when conscience. She jumped up, skittered around in her crate, and fell back down again. Angela banged on the walls of her crate, screaming and yelling at the top of her lungs until she gained splinters. She cried out a few choice words.

"SOMEBODY LET ME OUTTA HERE, OR I'M GONNA BREAK ALL THE DARN BONES IN YOUR BODY! DO YOU HEAR ME OUT THERE?!" She cried, and then broke down on the floor covered in straw and shed tears. "I just want to see my son…please…"

She cried for about an hour, and then composed herself. Angela rubbed her eyes and sniffled. She whimpered until finally there was a light. The crate door landed in snow and the powder was blown back into Angela's feathers. She looked like she had dandruff. She didn't care. She darted left and right calling Private's name, but he never answered. Finally, she gave up and plopped flat on her back, staring at the rafters above. Rafters…that meant she was in a zoo! There were other penguins! She got up, but then her face fell. Who cares if there were other penguins? She wanted her son. Not the other penguins.

"Well, maybe someone has a telephone…" Angela thinks aloud. "I'll call Nigel, he'll know what to do, right?"

Angela ran forwards until she found a small village of penguins. There were small igloos everywhere, but instead of being round like a normal igloo, they were rectangular. The tunnel to the inside was square, and the main part was a rectangle of ice bricks. She was approached by a villager penguin, who shuffled through the snow with his flippers outstretched.

"Hello!" he said, embracing her rather randomly.

Angela took his flipper in both of hers and flipped him over flat on his back. She snorted. He shivered in the snow and braced himself for her next blow when recognition washed over her face. Her eyes broke open wide and she quivered in fear.

"G-Gerald? Is that you?"

The penguin opened his eyes, "Angela!"

He was happy to see her as he flung his flippers around her. He seemed about to cry, but he kept himself composed. Angela was frozen, however, unable to return his embrace. She had her jaw stuck open. She never thought she'd see Gerald again. Ever.

"But-how did you…?"

"I've been searching for you for years! I found out you went to London so I went there too! I stayed with some penguins I'd known a long time ago. Then, when I visited your brother, Nigel, he said you already left for America. I got caught as you can see, but we're together now! So, where's our son?" Gerald explained.

"Gerald…I don't know how to put this…_ I _lost him." Angela said.

They stared at each other for a moment. "N-no joke?" he asked.

Angela shook her head angrily. "Why would I joke about something like that anyway?"

Gerald stepped back, afraid. "I'm sorry! I just…"

Angela took a deep breath to calm down. "No, no, it's my fault. And…I'm sorry I chewed you out so badly when you lost our egg. I know how you felt, now."

"That's alright. I forgave you a long time ago when I started looking for you. I love you. That's why we're married." Gerald said, hugging her again.

They broke away but still held flippers. They gazed into each other's eyes for a moment. Angela suddenly looked to her side and seemed sad.

"I wish I could call Nigel. He needs to know what happened." She said.

"I have a phone in my igloo. You can call him there." Gerald said, wiping away one of her tears that was going to soak into her feathers.

They waddled into the village together and went into Gerald's igloo. It was square like all the others and had snow-made furniture instead of ice-made. There were no windows in this house and it wasn't as old as the one Angela was used to. Gerald led Angela to a phone that sat on the coffee table that centered the room and she ran over to it, quickly dialing the number she had memorized. The phone buzzed a couple times before there was an answer on the other end.

"Hello? Who's this?" Nigel's voice asked.

An overjoyed Angela breathed into the phone, "Nigel! Nigel! It's me!"

"Who's 'me'?" Nigel asked jokingly.

"It's me, Angela, you old coot!" Angela yelled into the phone. "I have to tell you something!"

"Ah, Angela! How are you and little Private getting along?" Nigel asked.

"Um, that's what I need to talk to you about…" Angela told Nigel about how she had lost Private in the city when the humans captured them and sent them to different places.

"Mm hm…" Nigel, who was listening intently, said, "Well, perhaps it's for the best. Chances are if you can't find Private, neither can the Commissioner. Good job!"

Angela took Nigel's optimism and used it herself. _He's usually right, so, I shouldn't worry, _Angela thought, reassured.

"Angela, please stay where you are. It's only for your safety." Nigel told her.

Angela turned around and glanced at Gerald, who smiled warmly and lovingly.

"Oh, I don't think you have to worry 'bout that, Nigel. I'm staying here for a _long _time!" Angela declared into the phone.


End file.
